


“What kind of fool do you take me for, Doctor Stantz?"

by misfitcutie



Category: Ghostbusters (Movies 1984-1989), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, i need to get better at posting stuff here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 14:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14046165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misfitcutie/pseuds/misfitcutie
Summary: A quick drabble based on WickedMusic96's headcanon thatPeck can speak some Irish/Gaelic.





	“What kind of fool do you take me for, Doctor Stantz?"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WickedMusic96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedMusic96/gifts).



“What kind of fool do you take me for, Doctor Stantz? Do you really believe I have not studied your work and taken my own precautions against the supernatural?” Walter set his empty mug on the small dining table. It was littered with reference books and historical texts on Ireland. Ray was seated across from him, half glaring. Between them was a black, hardcover journal. The title was scrawled across the front and side in white paint. Walter pulled it towards himself, “Again, where did you come across this?”

“A customer was given a trunk filled with family heirlooms. They recognised the journal as a book of shadows and decided it was safer in our hands,” Ray’s tone was condescending. He was clearly irritated. Peck had dropped by unannounced and interrupted his work. Really it was the only way to know what the Ghostbusters were up to. They often lied to him or flourished their reports with unnecessary scientific jargon to confuse him.

“Oh, please. How dangerous could it be?” Walter flicked open the cover and started scanning the table of contents. It was written in smudged black ink. The pages were yellowed and wrinkled with water damage.

"I don't know. I haven't had the chance to translate it yet," Ray crossed his arms and sat back, watching Peck carefully.

"You mean, you don't know what any of this says? Are you sure it's even a spell book?"

Ray's eyes narrowed, "Just do us a favour and don't read anything out loud,"

Peck sneered at him. Really, he was almost giddy. He had the upper hand for once. The journal was written in Gaelic, something he had picked up during his childhood overseas. Now he had the chance to show off, and he loved to show off. He quickly opened a section of spells and found something mundane yet promising. He held the open book up off the table and flat against his hands.

He looked up at Ray and cocked an eyebrow, "You mean like this?"

Ray immediately sat forward with his hands on the table, "Walter," his voice was a low warning.

He read the short incantation aloud. A clear liquid began to pool from the spine of the text. It saturated every page without spilling, it almost floated between the sheets. Ray stood up and leaned over the table to get a better look. Peck's lips curled in satisfaction.

Suddenly, the liquid turned jet black and a pattern of swirls appeared on the surface. Walter carefully closed the book. Holding it sideways, he tilted it towards his mug. The dark substance drained neatly into it. It was steaming and gave off a pleasant aroma. He set the book down, picked up the mug and held it under his nose.

"What did you do?" Ray grabbed the book and started flipping through the pages, "Don't drink that!"

"What does it look like? I just made myself a cup of tea," He took a sip. It was the perfect temperature and sweetness. There was even a hint of lavender. He stood up turning to leave, but jumped in surprise, spilling some of his drink. A PKE meter was slowly beeping in his face. At some point, Egon had snuck up behind him. For a moment, he was nervous but held his composure.

With his free hand, Peck swatted Egon away, "Get that away from me!" The arms jumped up and Egon gave him a curious look. Walter scowled back at him before turning on a heel. He made his way downstairs, smiling into his cup, pleased with his performance.


End file.
